BY RACHEL BRUERVILLE, OPINIONS EDITOR
Reflecting on my upbringing has made me realise that certain expectations, conventions, and also general music nerdiness, have been instilled in me from a young age.
Being in a single parent family, Mum was (and of course, still is!) the ultimate role model for me and my musical twin sister. Growing up with a full-time professional violinist for a mother was an incredible privilege. She has performed with many ensembles in her time, and has now been with the Adelaide Symphony Orchestra for more than 26 years. She has no plans of stopping anytime soon!
Observing the ways our family members live their lives greatly influences the formation of our individual brands of common sense, which then translates into how we conduct ourselves in professional situations.
So how has my upbringing influenced my understanding of what professionalism means? Here are three key lessons I’ve learnt about music from my mother.
‘On time’ means late!
I first heard this brilliant phrase at Gondwana National Choral Composers’ School, and it is the perfect summary of what Mum would consistently demonstrate. We would always seem to leave ridiculously early for any kind of appointment. As I began to get my first proper gigs, I really started to appreciate how second nature being properly ‘on time’ was to me.
If I’m travelling to work, I won’t trust a public transport timetable that says I will arrive at the right time – I need to catch a bus or two before that one. If driving, traffic or potential problems with parking have to be taken into consideration. I’m going to make an assumption that most people consider traffic and parking issues, but Mum takes it further: if you’re driving to a gig and your car breaks down, do you have a backup option? Will there be time to call a friend or a taxi if you have to?
Note: this actually happened to Mum a few years ago on the way to a string quartet gig (argh!), and because she was so early, she managed to get in touch with the cellist who picked her up on his way to the gig 10 minutes later. Fortunately, he was able to drive past where she had left the broken-down car.
It actually happens!
Understanding orchestral etiquette, and how it might relate to real life
My sister and I were enthusiastic members of the Adelaide Youth Strings for many of our primary school years, which is when Mum started to let us in on the concept of orchestral etiquette. The ‘on time means late’ rule was, of course, crucial: rehearsals will start on time; therefore, be in your seat, warmed up, and ready to play, at least five minutes before that time.
Everything we might think about ‘second best’ is wrong
Many people who don’t come from an orchestral background make the assumption that the first violins are automatically better players than the second violins, and that sitting at the back of a section must mean that you’re the worst. They don’t realise that, a lot of the time in the professional world, tutti players constantly rotate. And, particularly in a youth orchestra situation, dispersing the strongest, most experienced players evenly throughout a section is a great thing.
Back in the day, Mum decided that she wanted to participate in a ‘sponsor a chair’ fundraising initiative for the Adelaide Youth Orchestra. She specifically sponsored the chair of the inside player on the back desk of the second violins – the ‘worst’ position to be in. The majority of chairs that were already sponsored were principal chairs, but Mum wanted to make a point: an orchestra is all about teamwork, and every single player is important.
While these are the lessons that have made an impact on me, here are some other conventions that have stuck with me and influenced how I aim to conduct myself in orchestral and non-orchestral settings:
• Always aim to practice your part before the first rehearsal, and always bring everything you need with you – pencil, eraser, bow…(we won’t go into the time I forgot to bring my bow to a rehearsal. Oh, the shame!) = Be reliable and prepared.
• Remain focused on your job, and if you think you hear someone make a mistake, don’t turn around and stare maliciously = Be kind.
• Don’t warm up loudly on the current concerto you’re working on = Don’t be arrogant.
• Pay attention in rehearsal and make sure to stop playing as soon as the conductor stops = Efficiency and respect are beautiful things.
So, a shout-out to Mum: I don’t have the words to describe how incredible you are. I also can’t leave out how your appreciation for disco string lines has been transferred directly into my soul. Thank you for everything.
And remember, dear reader: when your daughter who plays the cello is frustrated by the overabundance of treble clef accessories available, always buy her a plain T-shirt and paint a bass clef on it.
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